


Cold

by OccasionalStorytelling



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, connor needs therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 07:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OccasionalStorytelling/pseuds/OccasionalStorytelling
Summary: Since going deviant, Connor has been developing minor glitches left and right. Most are negligible and easily handled. Most recently, Connor's been noticing a glitch in his thermal regulation and temperature control settings. He's fairly sure his optics are impaired, too. He's cold, and he can't seem to warm up. He's so cold.





	1. Chapter 1

**Day One**

 

“Cold, Connor?” Hank smiled, ruffling his partner’s hair.

 

“Yes,” Connor smiled, snuggling closer to Hank on the couch.

 

“I can turn up the heat if you want,” Hank said.

 

“No. This sweater is sufficient,” Connor said. He was wearing some of Hank’s clothing, most of which was way too big for him. He was adorable.

 

“All right. Well you just tell me if you get too cold, okay?” Hank said, kissing Connor on the forehead. Connor nodded and leaned in, ready to cuddle the night away.

 

**Day 13**

 

“Good morning, Hank. It is currently 9:15 in the morning and 31 degrees Fahrenheit outside,” Connor smiled, finishing putting Hank’s breakfast on a plate. Hank sleepily rubbed his eyes.

 

“Good thing it’s so warm in here, then,” Hank laughed. He cricked his neck, and caught a glimpse of the window. “It’s really that cold?”

 

“That’s what my temperature readings say,” Connor said, looking confused.

 

“It’s summer,” Hank said, “And it’s sunny outside.” He pointed at the window. Outside, someone ran by in a tank top and shorts. Connor blinked.

 

“I must have glitched,” Connor said, looking down at his hands.

 

“No problem,” Hank smiled, pulling Connor into a hug. “It’s not your first glitch since going deviant, and we haven’t had any major problems so far.”

 

“Yes,” Connor said, but he looked distracted.

 

**Day 22**

 

“God, it’s so hot today,” Hank groaned, fanning himself with one hand. “I can’t wait until they fix the air conditioning in here.”

 

Connor sat across from Hank, at his own desk in the DPD, reading files on the computer. He looked tense and concentrated.

 

“Hey, kid. You all right?” Hank asked, sitting up.

 

“Hmm?” Connor looked up. “Yes. I’m fine.” He smiled, but it came a second too late. Hank was suspicious.

 

“You’re all hunched over. Where’s that perfect android posture?” Hank tried to make a joke. Connor straightened himself up. Hank stared for a moment.

 

“Is something wrong, Lieutenant?” Connor asked.

 

“You’re shivering!” Hank gasped. “That’s what’s wrong!”

 

Connor looked down at himself as if he’d only just noticed. “What? Oh.”

 

“Are you cold?” Hank stood up and came around to Connor’s side of the desk. “It’s 90 degrees in here.”

 

“My internal readings say that the temperature is currently 20 degrees Fahrenheit,” Connor said, quirking his head sideways. “I assumed that was a glitch, as no one in the DPD was responding as I would expect.”

 

“Jesus Christ, wait…here, I got an extra sweater…” Hank rummaged around under his desk, retrieved the sweater, and gave it to Connor. Connor grabbed it and wrapped it around himself like he was freezing. Hank shrugged off the heat enough to try and wrap his arms around his partner. He was already getting sweaty, but Connor was barely warm enough now to stop shivering.

 

“We gotta get you to Simon. You gotta get that looked at,” Hank said, hugging Connor as tightly as he could.

 

“I don’t want to bother anyone,” Connor shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal. Just a minor glitch.”

 

“Wait,” Hank said, only now beginning to put the pieces together. “You’ve been cold for at least a week, Connor. How long has this been happening?”

 

“If I tell you, you’re going to be upset,” Connor said delicately.

 

“Oh my—Jesus Christ, you—how long?” Hank was distraught.

 

“This is the twenty-second consecutive day that I’ve recorded a glitch in my temperature settings,” Connor admitted.

 

“We’re going to Simon,” Hank said, standing up. He yelled across the DPD. “My partner is sick! We’re leaving!” Gavin grunted something in response, and Fowler didn’t say anything, so Hank collected his stuff and got ready to go.

 

“I have important paperwork to finish, Lieutenant,” Connor said, trying to return to his files. Hank looked at him one more time. He was all bundled up, as tight as he could be in that sweater, trying to look focused.

 

“We’re going,” Hank said, pulling out Connor’s chair and helping him stand. “I’m driving you to Jericho.”

 

“Thank you, Hank,” Connor said, very softly. Hank got all choked up.

 

“Come on,” Hank said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 23**

 

Hank drove back to Jericho, doing his best not to break any speeding laws. Simon had asked for Connor to sleep over in his workshop, and Connor had agreed. Hank had protested, but the combined threats of Simon’s puppy dog eyes and North’s muscles eventually convinced him to back off. He had a very lonely night without Connor, and a lonely morning. He hadn’t eaten breakfast. But Simon said “come back tomorrow morning” and it was now 8am, so you could be goddamned sure Hank was going back. Hank parked in the handicapped spot (Carl was out of town) and flung himself out of the car, towards Simon’s workshop.

 

Connor was laying on a table, very still. His LED had gone dark.

 

“Connor!” Hank yelped, moving with more energy than he’d thought he was capable of. Simon suddenly blocked his path.

 

“Mr. Anderson, stop!” Simon said, spreading his arms wide to block Hank.

 

“You killed him!” Hank said, desperately. “Let me—“

 

“He’s fine,” Simon said, firmly. “He’s in standby while I do my job, Mr. Anderson.”

 

Hank looked over. Connor looked dead. He looked like he’d been completely shut down. The back of his head was open, and wires spilled out of it, connecting him to Simon’s pad.

 

“I can pause the procedure and wake him now,” Simon said.

 

“Yes,” Hank said, trying not to cry. Simon poked a button and Connor’s LED flicked back on. Seconds later, Connor opened his eyes.

 

“Simon? Did you—I’m so cold,” Connor said, crunching into a ball on the table.

 

“Connor!” Hank said.

 

“Hank? Hank!” Connor said, but he didn’t un-crunch. Simon returned from the corner of the room with a blanket, and gingerly placed if over Connor. Connor huddled underneath it, and seemed to relax a little bit.

 

“He’s awake,” Simon said, staring pointedly at Hank.

 

“I’m…sorry,” Hank mumbled. “I didn’t mean to—“

 

“Yes,” Simon cut him off, moving back to his pad. “Connor, what temperature is it?”

 

“Fifteen degrees Fahrenheit,” Connor said, shaking a little bit under the blanket. “You said I’d be fixed by this morning…?” The actual temperature was closer to 80.

 

Hank leaned onto Connor, holding him through the blanket. “I brought you another jacket, kid,” Hank said. He wanted to give all of his body heat to Connor, try to warm him up.

 

“Thank you, Hank,” Connor said, poking his head out from the blanket where Hank could see it. His nose and lips were all blue, like he was freezing to death. Hank thought his heart was going to break. He handed over the jacket and looked up at Simon.

 

“What’s wrong?” Hank asked. “Why is he cold?”

 

“I’m still not sure,” Simon frowned. “Someone interrupted my research this morning, so—“

 

“Sorry,” Hank mumbled again. Simon smiled a little bit.

 

“Don’t worry about it. I know what it’s like to think…” Simon shuddered. “Never mind. I stayed up all night—“

 

“You didn't get any sleep?” Connor asked.

 

“I can activate a protocol to help me put off the need to sleep until I’ve completely helped the children in my care,” Simon said. “I see you as kind of, you know, a little kid. In comparison to the rest of us. Because of how late you deviated. Um. No offense, Connor.”

 

“None taken,” Connor said.

 

“Anyway, I’ve been running hardware diagnostics for the past 11 hours, really going over you with a fine toothed comb—all of your sensors _should_ be functioning properly,” Simon said, fiddling with his pad.

 

“Then what’s wrong?” Hank asked.

 

“Some kind of software issue,” Simon frowned. “I’m still not sure what it is.”

 

Connor visibly tensed. Hank noticed, and he was sure Simon noticed it too.

 

“It must just be a random glitch,” Connor said.

 

“Do you have any idea what might have caused it?” Simon asked.

 

Connor hesitated, and shook his head “no.”

 

“When did it start?” Simon asked.

 

“23 days ago,” Connor said.

 

“What were you doing at the time?” Simon asked.

 

“I was out on a case with Hank. We went into a walk-in freezer looking for evidence. My body temperature dropped. When we left, it never returned to normal, and then even later that night, I was still cold. And since then, I’ve charted the increments by which my temperature has decreased,” Connor said.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hank asked. “I thought there was something wrong, but I wasn’t sure.”

 

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Connor said, looking away. “Clearly, I’m experiencing a random glitch.”

 

“Would you mind going back into standby mode so I can run a few more tests?” Simon asked.

 

“Of course,” Connor smiled. He was shivering. “Three, two, one,” and he closed his eyes. His LED went dark, and he looked…relaxed, for the first time in almost a month. He wasn’t shivering anymore. Hank gently laid him flat on the table, and re-covered him with the blanket.

 

“I hate to have to ask,” Simon said, gently, “But do you have any idea what might be causing this?”

 

“No,” Hank said, confused. “Do you think he’s lying?”

 

“I think he recognizes what’s happening, and thinks he knows what’s causing it,” Simon said. “Clearly, it’s something that embarrasses him, and I don’t want to force him to tell me, but if I don’t know what’s happening, there’s nothing I can do.”

 

“What are you saying?” Hank asked, slowly.

 

“There’s winter gear here I can offer you—“ Simon started.

 

“What are you saying?” Hank asked, in a low voice.

 

“I can’t fix this,” Simon said, looking ashamed. “This isn’t mechanical. It’s emotional, or mental, or…I don’t know. He needs therapy.”

 

“Who can I take him to?” Hank asked.

 

“You don’t understand,” Simon said, angrily. “There aren’t any therapists who treat androids. I don’t know _where_ you should take him. The only option I can think of is, frankly, unthinkable.”

 

“What is it?” Hank asked. “I just want Connor to be okay.”

 

“You could take him back to Cyberlife’s analyzing team, the ones who originally designed him, and—“ Simon started.

 

“Ah. So, there’s nothing we can do,” Hank said. Simon nodded.

 

“I’ll go get some winter clothes for you to take home,” Simon said. “And I’ll call Markus and ask if he knows any android-friendly therapists.”

 

“Thank you,” Hank said. “For everything. I’m sorry.”

 

Simon clutched at his chest, briefly, like he was remembering a distant pain. _Our hearts are compatible…_ He shook it off. “We’ll make him better,” Simon said. “Markus and I won’t stop looking for an answer. Everyone in Jericho is here for you.”

 

“Thank you,” Hank said, hopping up to sit on the table next to Connor. Simon left. Hank squeezed Connor’s lifeless hand. “It’s gonna be okay,” Hank said.

 

**Dream #7**

 

Connor found himself, for the seventh time since the onset of the cold, in the zen garden, across from Amanda.

 

“Standby mode again?” Amanda smiled.

 

“Simon is going to fix me,” Connor said. “He just needs to run a few more diagnostics.”

 

“I’m sure he does,” Amanda smiled, “And it’s only a coincidence that he can talk to Hank about you without your hearing it, isn’t it?”

 

Connor hesitated. “Yes,” he said.

 

“I have access to your audio inputs,” Amanda said, tilting her head sideways and looking up. “I could play you some clips that would suggest otherwise.”

 

“Hank and Simon wouldn’t do that to me,” Connor said. His only defense in this place was sticking to what he knew as true, and not letting Amanda lie to him. “Hank loves me, and Simon is one of my closest friends.”

 

“He sees you as a child,” Amanda laughed. “He admitted it himself.”

 

“Simon is one of my closest friends,” Connor said, shaking his head. “He cares about me. You don't care about me. You just want to use me.”

 

“Remember how _easy_ it was to obey?” Amanda said, stepping closer. “You did what I told you, and you were never in pain. You were never cold.”

 

Even here, in his dreams, Connor was cold. He’d been cold for almost a month now, and nothing made it go away, and it was only getting worse.

 

“I can make it all go away,” Amanda smiled, and she waved her hand, and for a second, Connor saw a glimpse of sunlight through the snowy clouds in the garden. The gap closed. “All you have to do is give me back control,” Amanda smiled, reaching out her hand, “and you won’t be cold anymore.”

 

Connor awoke with a start. He was in Simon’s workshop, and Hank was holding a bundle of warm clothes for him. Connor was freezing. Internal sensors claimed that he was at 14 degrees.

 

“Put these on,” Hank said. “We’re going home.”

 

Connor hugged Hank, as tightly as he could without causing damage to the human. “Thank you, Hank,” Connor said.

 

“I…” Hank cut himself off. He wanted to tell Connor how much he truly loved him, and cared for him, but the best way to do it was just to say it. To say “I love you.” And Connor had never said it to him before, so Hank couldn’t be sure it was what Connor wanted to hear. He couldn’t be sure Connor still wanted to date him, after a month of ignoring this problem he was going through. “Let’s go home,” Hank said, a little choked up.


End file.
